


The Bend of the Canyon Road Where I Find Your Ghost Again

by LyriumTainted



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Benny is a piece of shit, Child Neglect, Enemies to Friends, Found Family, Freeform, I'm working on it, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Nobody Is In Character, Non-Binary Courier (Fallout), Non-binary character, Original Character(s), Original Child Characters(s), Other, Past Abuse, Self-Indulgent, Short Chapters, This is literally so self indulgent, Trans Character, Trans Courier Six, Weird family dynamics, a very fucked up famly, but are we surprised? no, but c'est la vie yknw, everyone is ooc, ive never written a long chapter in my life, trans courier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26835496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyriumTainted/pseuds/LyriumTainted
Summary: Benny is a terrible person- he knows this, everyone knows this.But he's not completely heartless; guilt weighs on him like any other man, and perhaps no evil deed weighs heavier than that of attempting to kill Courier Six-- who he later learns was (or, is,) just a child.
Relationships: Benny & Courier, Courier & Arcade Gannon, Courier & Rex, Craig Boone & Courier (Fallout), Lily Bowen & Courier (Fallout)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. I Used To Think I Could Go Somewhere, Turns Out I Was Ill-Prepared

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Here's to the Losers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595617) by [moon_crater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_crater/pseuds/moon_crater). 



> I obviously would not support this irl, befriending a child you shot is incredibly odd, but I've had an idea for a child!Courier Six for a while.  
> This is mostly just self-indulgent shit abt Benny after Caesar and how he could've helped an Independent Vegas player-- mostly drabbles, not really one coherent theme among the chapters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After updating 'with a bat and a blade', i decided i should put some effort into my courier(s) and lone wanderer--  
> this particular courier is a completely for-fun AU, my canon courier kills benny ;0  
> Eaden = Eden  
> taken from a 'dead end' sign missing letters, turning into (d)ead en(d). hence the odd spelling.

Most people didn't bat an eye at death, even murder-- it was the Wasteland, that was normal. People died from raider attacks and the mutated wildlife more than they did old age, and so frequently that there really wasn't much use for dwelling on it when you should be focused on your own survival, anyway.

Benny normally didn't care much about death and causing it, but as much as he liked to pass himself off as cold and only interested in power, there was something about killing someone who was, to his knowledge, completely innocent of any crime that just didn't sit right in his chest.  
He'd do it again, he tells himself, if it meant he would still have the platinum chip and be one step closer to an independent Vegas, but the thoughts that kept him awake at night said otherwise. He hadn't known that the courier carrying the chip was a kid-- they didn't even look old enough to have their first job, truth be told, --but it wasn't like he was paying attention to who the courier was until he was ambushing and then face to face with them, and by then it was too late.  
He'd have an easier time, maybe, if there was some way he could've justified it; any adult you meet out in the Mojave has a past and has probably done something to deserve the kind of end Benny had given that courier, but kids... well, he thought it was more of a waste, this way.  
But it was over and done with, he had the chip, he had Yes Man, and Benny was that much closer to having power over the strip and booting House out for good.

...For about three weeks.

Three weeks for him to talk to Yes Man and finalize his plans to investigate what was under Fortification Hill, three weeks of figuring out how to compartmentalise his feelings about how he got here away until he learned to deal with them, three weeks for a disoriented and enraged adolescent mailman to drag themselves out of a shallow grave and across the state to find the man that tried to kill them.  
Three weeks for Benny to find himself staring down- quite literally -the barrel of a 9mm held by one very angry child, who was supposed to be very dead.

  
There had been little warning; one moment he was talking to one of the guards that followed him around the casino, the next he was turning around to be face-to-face with a ghost that had been haunting him for close to a month, who'd managed to sneak a gun past check-in and sneak up on Benny and his guards.  
At first, all he could get out was: "What in the goddamn?", because let's be honest, it's not every day that someone you killed comes back to return the favour.  
"Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves, like smooth little babies..." Not even he was sure what he was saying, there was a whole lot he was ready to say to keep this half-pint from killing him on the spot; he watched the courier glance back in confusion to a man in a red beret that Benny hadn't even noticed at first, probably trying to figure out what the fuck that meant- good, confusion can make for a good filler while he figured out what to say and do, maybe this could work out for him? His luck had been pretty good so far. Y'know, until this courier came back from the dead.

"Give me one good reason not to kill you right here." They demanded, outwardly seeming to be unintimidated by the height difference and the clearly armed guards by Benny- but their arms shook if you looked close enough, this kid couldn't have been much older than 14, and Benny could use that to his advantage, hopefully.

"You want a reason? How 'bout four?" He offered, counting on his fingers. "They're called bodyguards, and every one of them is packing. Me, too- so baby makes five. Add to that every Chairman in this joint is armed, and not with some junky little 9mm that you smuggled in." Benny was pushing it by threatening them, he knew. There was a large chance they weren't all-right in the head after their paths first crossed, and he easily could've set them off. "Anyhows baby, you didn't come here for vengeance, you came here to get clued in. What say you and me cash out, go somewhere more private-like? Any questions you got, I'll answer."

"Call me 'baby' again," They warned, "And it won't matter how many people in here have guns, they won't kill me before I get you first. My name is Eaden, and I'm here for the chip, not whatever piss-poor excuse you have for trying to kill me." But they lowered their pistol, motioning for their friend-- Brother, maybe? He didn't know and he didn't care, --to lower their gun as well. In hindsight, maybe calling someone who looked like they were 13 'baby' was a bad idea, it was just a natural nickname he gave everyone, but they had him there, and he'd adjust his vocabulary fast if it got him a better chance of leaving with his brains intact.

"I'm not goin' anywhere with you if you're keepin' the guards. I'm not stupid, that screams trap."

Benny weighed the options in his head- if it came down to it, he was pretty damned sure he could handle some rugrat from the Mojave. What were the chances they could actually handle that pistol, with the way their arms shook when the first held it up? Slim enough that he was willing to risk it.  
"If that's what it takes to win your trust, that's what it takes. Follow me," He sighed.  
  
The courier turned to look at their companion again, briefly asking him to stay and give them maybe half an hour before causing trouble, then marching after Benny as if they were not a pint-sized stringbean in way over their head.

Benny brought the courier to the presidential suite, the elevator ride being one of the most awkward experiences of his life, pretending he couldn't see or feel their glare on the way up, and immediately making a line for the minibar-- he wasn't going to risk getting buzzed or drunk, but a drink couldn't hurt while they demanded the chip back and he tried to explain why that absolutely wasn't going to happen, as he was sure was going to be the case.  
It also gave him a chance to actually get a good look at the kid- trying to keep from being shot tends to keep one's priorities in order, but now that their gun was away from now, he could wonder what the hell they were wearing, and to an extent, where the hell their parents were, though it wasn't uncommon for orphans to wander from town to town. Unless the beret-wearing man downstairs was their parent, but Benny doubted that, for some reason.  
The courier was maybe 5' at most, he noted, and wearing some kind of blue old-world uniform, with a white, or what was probably once white, collar and matching blue hat. There were numbers on the front of their shirt, but not the kind that would indicate a vault or something like that-- he didn't know what the numbers were for, though that frankly wasn't all that important to him.   
"Now that yous and me's got some privacy, I gotta ask-- how is it that you're still living? Not that it's not good news; maybe I can finally sleep at night, knowing you didn't die."  
  
The courier- Eaden, they said, right? -scoffed at this, briefly rolling their eyes and crossing their arms over their chest, covering the faded and peeling white numbers of their jersey.  
"A cowboy securitron pulled me out that shallow grave you guys put me in- y'know, while I was still alive -and a doc in Goodsprings dug all that lead out of my skull." 

Benny scoffed into his drink, shaking his head at the realisation of the securitron's motive.  
"House was onto me from the word 'Go'? I thought I was being so clever... Once you were vertical, how'd you track me down?"  
He wasn't entirely interested, really, it was more so he could learn how to better cover his tracks next time. Not that he planned on shooting another mailman.

"I followed the trail of people talking about your ugly-ass suit. You look like a fucking napkin with legs, everybody noticed where you went. You also left your buddies to be killed by the NCR. They were happy to sell you out in return for some help," Eaden produced a lighter from their back pocket, the same lighter that the Khans had given them when they offered to get the NCR off of their backs. Benny looked offended on behalf of his suit jacket and reached for the lighter, giving the courier a scowl, who just returned it with their own smug grin and slipped the almost-empty lighter back into their pocket.

"Alright, now that we've scratched on that topic long enough, tell me; which way is the wind blowing?" Benny finished his drink, ready to talk business and hopefully sway Courier Six from his untimely death.

Around the half-hour mark, Boone had started getting ready to go find the courier-- he didn't know them or care much about them, but it wasn't hard to see that Benny was a slimy son of a bitch, and Boone felt just a little more obligated than he usually might have to help the kid out, just because of how young they seemed. They were clearly new at using a gun, and whenever they passed by dead bodies, like they had at the REPCONN facility, they paled and looked ill. It wasn't his job or responsibility, but Boone prepared to start a fight anyway.  
He only relaxed a little when the elevator they'd followed Benny into light up, eventually opening it's doors and revealing Eaden.  
They stomped past Boone entirely, and he was content to just follow their silent anger out the doors of The Tops.

  
"That Benny guy's a real piece of work, huh?" He eventually commented as they walked down the Vegas Strip, not particularly to get a conversation started, more just to state the obvious.

"No kidding! He wouldn't give me the fuckin' chip, and bolted! Met his stupid robot friend, though. Didn't think letting his guards have a key to his room was a bad idea- idiot. I know where he's going though, and I'm getting that fucking chip. You'll probably enjoy the Legionaries we'll meet along the way-'  
The courier's sentence was swiftly cut off by a man essentially rushing them, handing them what looked like a coin on a string and explaining that Caesar had been watching them. How wonderful. The Courier just could never catch a break, huh?


	2. I See Your Face Every Turn I Make, I Find No Comfort There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild transphobia; Eaden is AFAB, but is FTM/FTNB and uses they/them, and there are characters that blatantly disrespect this or are ignorant about it.

After being handed the Mark of Caesar by Vulpes Incul-whatever, Eaden promptly threw it in their bag and tried to forget about it. The Legion could do whatever they wanted to Benny, surely they wouldn’t wait for Eaden to show up and actually decide his fate, right?  
They had more important issues at the moment, anyway, like fixing the problems that The Kings were having, and then helping The King's dog, Rex, by taking him to a brain surgeon in Jacobstown. Much more pressing than a dictator summoning you to meet him.

And then Eaden couldn’t go to Caesar’s camp yet because they and Boone were helping Dr. Henry for a while because he helped Rex, where Eaden was promptly adopted by a Nightkin named Lily. There was just no time to focus on Caesar and whatever he wanted with you when a schizophrenic grandmother was spending time with you. While it was nice to feel cared about, even if it was because she mistook them for one of her grandkids, Eaden couldn't bear take Lily away from her community to travel with them, and eventually said farewell and went back to Freeside, where Eaden procrastinated even more-- dragged Boone to the Followers camp to dump a bunch of chems that he hadn’t even seen them pick up, but wasn’t going to question it.  
While visiting the Followers, Eaden roped a man named Arcade into joining their travels-- though it was mostly Eaden doing the convincing --and the three worked pretty well together. Arcade's own anti-Legion stance fit with the group, although Eaden found themself less and less interested in helping the NCR out since their talk with Benny about an independent Vegas, and an even less enjoyable conversation with Mr. House.  
Arcade would entertain Eaden with something scientific or interesting about the plants they’d come across, and it would ease the almost-endless talking that Eaden had previously directed at Boone. They brightened a little, allowed to act like the kid they were-- after Arcade managed to learn they were just 15, he started going out of his way, just a little, to check their health and engage them. Neither adult could say they were too surprised to find out their age, but it didn’t make them feel any better about it.

Sometimes, one would bring up the topic of family, and all three would clam up, none of them particularly desiring to share their Tragic Backstory(™) with people who were essentially strangers at the moment. Sharing stimpaks was a little different than sharing shitty childhood stories.  
Arcade was at least somewhat good at deflecting and redirecting; Boone would just shut it down immediately and Eaden… tried their best to redirect, but nobody could claim they were subtle.

Eventually, even though it was less than a month that they ignored Caesar, Eaden decided to swallow their fear and head to Cottonwood Cove to ferry over to Caesar's fort-- Mr. House was breathing down their neck and they really wanted to see the bunker under Fortification Hill; there was nothing cooler to a vagrant teen than a warehouse of potential loot.  
Arcade and Boone left Boone back in The Tops' presidential suite with Rex-- so neither would be lonely, Eaden claimed, --stocked up on a few stealth boys and plenty of ammo, half of their collection of stimpaks, and set off to where Vulpes had told them to go.

  
  


Halfway there, Eaden admitted to Arcade that they left Boone behind purposely to avoid a fight they didn’t need.  
“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” They assured, like they really needed to cushion anyone’s feelings here, “it’s kind of the opposite. I’m pretty sure we’d never make it through Cottonwood if he came along.”  
  
That got Arcade to smile, albeit uneasily, likely unsure if they were going to be able to avoid a fight anyway. “He certainly is… determined to kill as many Legionaries as he can. Not that I think he’s wrong for it. He’s not.”  
Not much love for the Legion, here.  
Eaden wasn’t even fully aware of all the bad that the Legion was known for, but it wasn’t hard for them to trust that they were bad when Boone and Arcade didn’t like them-- they seemed trust-worthy, right? Neither had ever treated them unfairly, or even yelled at them. Plus, Arcade was smart, he always knew what he was talking about.

“I feel bad for him. He seems sad, but I don’t think he likes to talk to me.” It was such an innocent statement that Arcade almost laughed a little, forgetting in the moment that he /was/ travelling with a kid. He could forget that people weren’t born selfish.

“I wouldn’t take it personally, Ace. I don’t think he likes to talk to anyone. Or talk in general. Adults are complicated like that.”

Eaden frowned slightly but nodded, unsure if he was talking down to them or not. They took their cap off briefly to wipe their forehead and revealed a jagged scar near their temple, before replacing the hat back on their head and covering the scar once more. Arcade wisely chose not to comment, just this once.  
“Let me check my map real quick,” They paused, dusting off the PipBoy on their arm and looking at how long they might take to get there.

After a moment of silence, Arcade prodded some convo; "Do you... know where we are?"  
Eaden let out a little awkward laugh, messing with the dials and buttons on the PipBoy, before falling silent and sheepishly smiling.

"...In the desert?"

  
  


There was less chatter between the two as they got closer to Cottonwood, both feeling nervous, Eaden sticking particularly close to Arcade as soon as they crossed paths with Legionaries. Several men commented on their disbelief in seeing a Follower outside of freeside, which made Eaden silently bristle in defence of their friend. Friend?  
One Legionnaire dared them to ‘give him cause, profligates’, which caused Eaden some confusion. They tugged on his sleeve, which he didn’t particularly appreciate, but it got him to lean over more so they could whisper a question.

“Hey, what’s a prolifigate?”  
“Profligate,” Arcade corrected, “It’s a… dissolute person. It’s an insult.”  
“Oh.” They nodded.  
  
Arcade nodded back, and straightened up to keep walking, when Eaden tugged on his sleeve /again/.  
“What?” He sighed.  
“What does ‘dissolute’ mean?”  
“Someone whose morals aren’t very high.”  
“Oh.” They nodded again, and this time let go of his sleeve to walk to the dock, where one of Caesar’s men waited to take the Courier and their companion to meet Caesar himself.

The boat over was awkward. Eaden was uncomfortable, Arcade was uncomfortable, and the moment they arrived, they were asked- or demanded, really, -to hand over weapons and chems. Arcade helped Eaden lie about having a heart condition, in case they wanted their stimpaks, and nobody really thought a 15 year-old was worth searching for a holdout, apparently.

As Arcade and Eaden travelled through the camp, Eaden kept their head down and gave slaves a wide berth, not wanting to get in their way. They’d never seen a slave before, and it didn’t improve their opinion of the Legion. They knew their trust in Arcade and Boone was well-placed.  
They were eventually led to Caesar's tent, greeted inside by a man on a throne,- clearly Caesar, right? -several guards by him and scattered around. Eaden particularly noticed a Legionnaire standing by a very familiar man in an ugly checkered suit- they couldn’t believe they actually kept that rat alive this long.

“So I finally get to meet the Courier whose accomplished so much in so little time. That is why I summoned you here, right?”  
He didn’t particularly SOUND scary- or, really, look it, unless you think most old men are scary, in which case you’re probably right to be fearful, but still-- Eaden was almost confused.  
“I mean, a man nearly kills you and your response is to track him across the breadth of the Mojave? You visit the Tops and the next thing you know the head of the Chairmen is fleeing the strip like a whimpering little pup? When you set your mind to something, you get results. I like that. I can even overlook your… condition. The question is, are you ready to get started?”

“How do you know so much about me? And what ‘condition’?” Eaden almost felt a little prideful at his description of Benny, but that was quickly dashed by the discomfort of being known more than they’d like.

“Your delusions of being what you aren’t. Your masquerade as a boy is almost convincing. It hasn’t slipped my spies notice. I have eyes and ears everywhere. It behooves me not to invade the west blind and deaf.”  
Caesar had a smug air about him without even smiling, and it made Eaden tense up their shoulders, glaring without even noticing it.

“I’m not ‘masq-” They’d been 100% ready to yell at Caesar- a man who could absolutely have them killed, swiftly, -but Arcade had a hand on their shoulder in an instant, either trying to comfort them or warn them it wasn’t worth the effort, but it worked, and Eaden backed down.  
“... Where were you looking to start?”  
They had no intention of working with him, if that wasn’t blatantly obvious, but they could pretend.  
  
“That’s more like it. The time is fast approaching when my Legion will assault the great dam and invade the west. Before that happens, I want Mr. House knocked out of the game. A quick one-two punch, with you doing the punching. Down the hill, at the west edge of camp, is an old building. It was here when the Fort was taken in 2277.” Snore. Eaden started tuning out, zoning in on a book to the left of the tent, which looked interesting, though they struggled to read the title. “Inside the building is a hatch, and inside that hatch are two steel doors that bear the sigil of the Lucky 38 casino. Now that same sigil is on the Platinum Chip Benny was carrying when we captured him. Isn't that interesting? Even more interesting, there's a slot about the same size as the Chip on the console that opens the hatch. So you know what I think? I think the Platinum Chip opens those doors - doors that can't be pried open or drilled open or blasted open. Because all that, I tried.” Did that surprise them? No. He seemed the type to try brute force instead of knowledge-- not that Eaden was any better at the moment, but Eaden was 15 and not an old dictator. “I want you to destroy whatever you find in there, and then I want you to come back here and tell me about it. Talk to Benny on your way out. He knows I’m going to let you decide how he dies. Maybe you’d like to remind him.”

Eaden didn’t process for a moment that it was a dismissal, shifting their weight from one leg to another awkwardly, until nudged by Arcade to gently stir them from their daydream. They blinked, before nodding to Caesar and stepping back, turning to where Benny kneeled, bound and bruised.  
The guard near him stepped away, which was more polite than either Arcade or Eaden was expecting, allowing them to talk more privately.

“Well ain’t this platinum? Had I known, I woulda baked a cake!”  
Despite the bruises, Benny seemed the same as when Eaden had talked to him at the Tops. Annoying.  
“How’d your meet and greet with Baldie go?”

“He said I get to choose how you die.”

“Try not to smile too wide, baby. You might break your mouth.”

Eaden hadn’t been smiling before, but that got one out of them, just for a brief moment. As fast as it showed up though, it was gone, and Benny wisely chose not to think about it too hard.

“Yeah, Baldie said you’d get to decide. So which way you leanin’?”

Eaden turned to Arcade, leaning on their tiptoes to whisper a question, to which Arcade didn’t bother whispering back-  
“I think that’s a bad idea. Didn’t you want the opposite, like, an hour ago?”  
They argued back and forth for a moment like this, Arcade more to look out for their safety over Benny’s.  
Eaden shook their head, softly stomping their foot to emphasize their point without drawing too much attention.

“I wanted revenge two months ago, not now that it’s part of some politician’s plan-”  
Arcade almost scolded them for being so childish; Caesar isn’t someone you can disobey because you feel like being rebellious, if they didn’t comply and send Benny to his death, it would likely be them first.

“What if I help you escape?” Eaden finally asked, ignoring Arcade’s advice and squaring their shoulders as they faced Benny.

“Sweet to offer, Kid, but if you cut these ropes, every Legionary in this camp is gonna come runnin’. With Machetes.” He at least had the intelligence to keep his voice low as well, though he didn’t drop that stupid slang.  
“Now if I had a Stealth Boy and a bobbypin, I could see myself out… know what I mean?”

Eaden narrowed their eyes,  
“Listen, I got a better offer. I hate your guts and think you’re stupid, but if I help you out, will you return the favour?”  
  
“Babydoll, you get me outta here and I’ll give you anything you want.”  
  
“You can stop calling me babydoll, for one, and for two-”  
Eaden explained their plan to Benny as fast as possible as to avoid suspicion-- they only brought 3 Stealth Boys, so they’d have to be used fast, but they had a lot of explosives and Eaden figured that was as good a plan as any. Arcade only requested to be as far back from the teen and their weapons of fiery doom, he would happily stick with his plasma pistol and not immediate death.  
Eaden was already a quiet person, and with a little luck, they seemed to whisper back and forth without too much suspicion raised.  
Benny was supposed to just book it, and wait for them outside the camp, though neither Arcade nor Eaden expected much from the man.

It was a half-baked plan, but it was the best they had at the moment. Eaden didn’t mind the uncertainty of surviving, though they wished they had Boone with them-- he would’ve liked to be part of this, they thought. Just from what they knew about him, anyway.

But this was fine; slipping Benny a Stealth Boy and bobbypin, Eaden figured that they'd already died once, what's a second time under the belt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing, I put out a story with more than one chapter at the publishing date, for once.  
> Continuation of last chapter, as I'm setting up their backstory.


	3. I Lend a Hand, It Breaks, I See Their Heads Shake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ready to shitpost away, honestly. These are the more "serious" chapters that relate to each other, from here on should be completely random family bonding times. Short chapter just so I can get to the stuff i actually want to write O.o

Caesar was certainly not an easy person to kill.  
In fact, none of the Legion were. But they also had a decent weakness to strong explosives.  
The stealth Boys only helped them so much, when Eaden was throwing grenades. Arcade had to stay behind where he thought they were at all times until they ran out, unless he really wanted to try and get his legs blown off.  
It was fine at first- the guards in Caesar’s tent, then some of the ones nearest to the tent- that slimeball Antony, -but then there were more. 10 became 20 became 30, and Eaden only had so many grenades and so much ammo.   
At one point, it became Eaden and Arcade just booking it to the gate, not wasting time aiming and firing and just hoping to whatever God there might be that they would make it out alright.   
How neither of them were currently missing limbs, with Eaden’s terrible skill in throwing grenades, was truly a miracle.

With the main gate in sight and neither of them severely injured, Eaden allowed themself a moment to breathe- they slowed down, just a fraction, trying to ease the burning in their lungs and legs, and noticed a new burning in their shoulder and lower ribcage. When did that happen? Had they been shot when they slowed down or while they were running?  
It didn’t matter- they could worry about the bullets and infection risk when they could stop running.   
Eaden was spurred on by Arcade grabbing the sleeve of their jersey and pushing them to keep running and go faster, finally bursting through the main gate to The Fort and shutting it behind them with excessive force, both Eaden and Arcada leaning against it to catch their breath.

The burning in Eaden’s shoulder and back got worse as they stopped gasping for air and they weren’t sure that Arcade got off any better, but their attention was drawn to the few Legionary guard’s bodies scattered on the ground, and the man in a checkered coat that stood over them.  
To both Arcade and Eaden’s disbelief, Benny had actually waited for them.

Their faces must’ve given them away, because Benny gave them a smug grin as he reloaded his gun, one that a salesman might put on to really sell whatever pile of junk they wanted to pass off as treasure.  
“Cat gotcha tongue? I agreed to stick around didn’t I, kid?”

Eaden glanced to Arcade, who still looked like he was struggling as much as they were to brush off the adrenaline. His lab coat was cut in a few places and he had clearly taken a hit or two from a Legionary with a machete, but he seemed to be alright outside of that-- he was cleaning his glasses, and recleaning them every time he put them on and found they weren’t good enough.  
They glanced back over at Benny, who was doing his best to look completely innocent, and stuck their tongue out at him. Childish? Yes. Satisfying? Also yes.   
Arcade pat his pockets, searching one just to find nothing and switching to another, finally finding what he was looking for. He pulled out a cigarette, silently handing it over to Eaden, who slung their backpack off and dug around to find Benny’s old lighter, lighting Arcade’s cig and handing it back.   
Arcade didn’t like to smoke openly, his hands shook whenever he wasn’t doing something medicine-related, he usually tried sneaking around it, but sometimes the situation called for it, and he knew Eaden had a light.

After they let Arcade smoke and briefly check over Eaden’s wounds, the trio stole the dead Legionaries’ uniforms and used them to ferry back to Cottonwood Cove mostly unnoticed.  
As soon as they were far enough from Cotton Cove and Legion-covered territory, they shed their disguises. Eaden had their uniform on underneath, and only needed to replace their hat, and Arcade just needed his glasses and lab coat. Benny took more time, mostly because of his hair, but as soon as he figured he looked good enough, he was laughing with glee.

“Pal, you are 18 karat! I didn’t think you’d actually pull that little stunt off, but you two were aces!”

Arcade glanced at Eaden as they walked, raising a brow and jerking a thumb in Benny’s direction.  
“Are we really bringing this guy with us, Six?” He asked, unimpressed but already knowing the answer. They both shared a bit of a laugh at Benny’s expense, but Eaden soon grew serious, fiddling with their PipBoy to avoid looking at either adult.   
  
“Before we get into anything else; neither of you are gonna say anythin’ about what Caesar said earlier... right?”

Benny raised a brow, but Arcade rolled his eyes like it was almost insulting.  
“No, I suddenly decided gossip was worth more than patient confidentiality and a kid’s safety, and that being a hypocrite was cool and fun. You’re 15, whatever’s in your pants shouldn’t matter to anyone.”   
Eaden allowed themself a smile at this, already having figured that Arcade wouldn’t give a fuck given his own LGBTQ+ experience. Benny, however, had just caught on to what they’d been talking about-- it’s not exactly like he was worried about the kid’s gender while he was trying to outsmart House, why the hell would he worry about it now?

“Oh! Are you talkin’ about Baldie and his problem with... whatever yous are?” He shrugged, and Eaden got ready to have to defend their existence, “Don’t worry, I won’t be thinkin’ about anything that fink said. Or spreading it around, for that matter.”  
Eaden blinked, almost not-insulted by his terrible phrasing, and passed a look to Arcade in disbelief.

“Uh- thanks, I think.” They paused.   
“Now that that’s over with, I want you to help me make Vegas independent. And someone’s going to have to help me explain to Boone why I’m working with the guy who tried to kill me.”


	4. I Feel As Though I've Lost Touch with the Person I Once Was as a Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, NOW's the last backstory chapter, i swear. I'm sick of them and you can tell. I live on chaos and having no coherent storyline

The journey back to the Vegas Strip was awkward at first, trying to find a rhythm between the three that wasn’t naturally there. Eaden introduced Arcade and Benny, and it was suffice to say that the doctor was not impressed.   
Benny complained about the sand and the wind and the sun, and while Arcade complained sometimes, it was usually humorous. Eaden found that Benny’s was… not.   
  
He infuriatingly still kept using nicknames, everything from Ace to Doll, and Eaden had to keep reminding him to knock it off. They weren’t friends, they didn’t need nicknames. Plus, Arcade used Ace, that was his nickname for them.

It was alright when Benny wasn’t complaining. Eaden wasn’t particularly knowledgeable it seemed, so they often had a lot of questions, and Arcade always seemed happy to answer them, if sometimes exasperated about it. The Courier would often let Arcade mess with the PipBoy on their wrist, walking with their arm extended so they didn’t have to slow down.   
He picked the radio channel, and Eaden didn’t seem to have a problem with it as they’d bop along to seemingly anything that came on.

Maybe it was because the Courier was a kid, or maybe because of their history, but Benny was 8 levels of uncomfortable. They just said whatever they were thinking and did whatever crossed their mind-- he discovered that last part when Eaden spotted some geckos in the distance and decided that charging at them was the best idea in the world. The gecko meat came at the price of bleeding through bandages and Arcade swearing every other word.   
He had to admit, he didn’t expect the man who acted as doctor to swear as much as he did, or smoke, but at this point, with this kid around, there wasn’t a lot that Benny wouldn’t believe.    
The kid was smart and almost concerningly charming when they wanted to be, not that Benny ever found them much more than annoying. Were 15 year-olds always so loud and childish, or did he just grow up fast? Blondie didn’t seem to mind, so it might’ve just been Bennie.

After a few days of travelling, of trying to map the group dynamic and trying to not want to strangle Arcade and occasionally the Courier, Eaden got the group back to the Lucky 38’s presidential suite, where they were immediately tackled by a robotic dog, who’d lept from the lap of one stone-faced sniper to greet them the moment they walked through the door-- not the weirdest, but not expected either.   
Eaden busied themselves with lavishing praise and attention onto the dog, while Arcade, Boone, and Benny just stood around awkwardly, waiting for the Courier to explain why Benny wasn’t dead yet and why their next plan was to kill Capitalism Incarnate.

To give Benny credit, he jumped in a few times during that conversation to help explain himself. Unfortunately, it didn’t really seem to help his case.   
Boone didn’t bother arguing with the kid, and Arcade… Well, it wouldn’t be Arcade without a few snarky comments under his breath, would it?   
  


As soon as it was all talked out and Benny was sure he wasn’t going to get hit by the sniper, he couldn’t leave fast enough-- he’d go talk to Swank, or maybe Yes-Man. Literally anyone that wasn’t with the Courier or 12.

Boone watched him leave, blank-faced as usual, listening to the sound of the door closing and then the elevator faintly whirring on in the background before looking over to where Arcade was standing, watching Six.   
“Are we _really_ letting him tag along?”

“That’s what _I_ said!”


	5. Now She's Bringin' Up The Past and My Opinion's Obsolete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm happy to be writing less backstory and more oneshots now O.O  
> i call this: grown man is as childish as teen boy

“Y’know, you could always just let me take care of everything. Could just go back home n’ pretend none of this even happened-” 

“No.” Eaden said sharply, turning their head just a moment to glare at Benny, who put his hands up in mock surrender.

“I’m not leavin’ YOU in charge of anythin’, ever.” They faced the road again, expression now pulled into a scowl. “And I ain’t never goin’ home, _ever_.”  
  
Benny took larger strides to catch up and fall in line with the Courier- which, wasn’t hard, even when they were walking fast. They were considerably short and only got so far, especially when the wind was blowing against them as hard as it was; Eaden had turned their baseball cap around to keep it from blowing off, and wrapped a bandana around their mouth and nose to breathe easier and keep sand out- Benny had done similarly, and now that he’d swapped his suit for armor (at the Courier’s request), he wasn’t quite so worried about getting dirty.   
“When have I ever proved myself untrustworthy or incapable? I came up with this plan!”

“You want a reason? I’ll give you four-” Their words were almost an exact copy when they first met, and felt a little like a slap across the face to Benny. He was the head of the Chairmen, and older than this kid, but they still talked down to him like HE was the child.

“How about when you shot me,” Eaden started, holding up a hand and putting a finger down, “When you let House in on your plans without knowing it, and then got captured by Caesar’s Legion,” Two fingers down, “and when you tried convincin’ me to go home! You may have come up with the plan, but I’m the one actually putting it in motion.” 

“I’d be putting it in motion if some little *shortstack* runt didn’t interrupt my plans-”  
  
 _“You shot me for carrying mail!”_

“I said I was sorry!”  
  
“NO, YOU DIDN’T! AND ‘SORRY’ DOESN’T FIX IT! You’re a no-good, yellow-bellied gecko of a man, who don’t know when to just deal with the cards you handed yourself, and I ain’t ever lettin’ you take the lead on this, or anythin’ else! Now piss off about it!”

The Courier broke out of their sync and sped up- having to essentially sprint to put distance between them, considering Benny’s usual pace of walking was about the same as their speed-walking. He should just drop it- this wasn’t worth spending the energy on, it really wasn’t, and yet, he opened his mouth anyway.  
“*I* don’t know when to deal? Have ya looked in the mirror lately? You’re some backwater Wasteland kid meddlin’ with shit you shouldn’t meddle with, trying to make yourself feel special ‘cause Pops didn’t love you and mommy drank too much-” He didn’t bother catching up, just raising his voice-- maybe it was a low-blow to attack their family life- just maybe, considering he didn’t know jackshit about them and they’d clearly been uncomfortable on the topic, but sometimes people get blinded by anger, and Benny was just one of those people that were often blinded.   
He got confirmation that he had struck a nerve though, because Eaden had covered their ears and started screeching at him to shut up. When they decided that wasn’t loud enough to completely tune Benny out, they turned their PipBoy radio on and up to full volume and proceeded to loudly sing along-- and if you’ve never had a 15-year-old scream ‘I’ve got spurs, that jingle-jangle-jingle’, at you, you are a very lucky person.   
For the sake of not losing either of their voices, maybe for once being the adult, maybe pretending he could take the moral high ground here by no longer being the antagonist, Benny shut up and tried to ignore the obnoxiously loud radio and it’s owner, falling even farther behind to simmer by himself.   
The Courier glared into the distance as they walked for as long as they could, though eventually the expression made their face hurt and the screaming brought attention to them and they had to stop, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still mad.

  
  


Eventually, the sun started setting, and Eaden steered them towards a small settlement, barely a tiny marker on their PipBoy’s map.   
The two still weren’t talking to each other by the time they bought a room in a dingy little bar and hotel, so Eaden handled the interaction with the bartender, handing them 150 caps and storming off to the room they’d bought.   
Benny chose to stay at the bar, figuring the least time spent near the kid right now was for the best, and if he wanted to waste caps on alcohol, he could waste his caps.  
He made polite conversation with the owner, and a few other patrons that came in as nighttime truly descended, though the place never got anywhere near to full, not even half. Benny chalked it up to being such a small town, but having gotten used to Vegas and the Tops, he could admit to being a little unnerved by the lack of people where he thought there should be more.

Two and a half drinks later, he decided it was probably time to check in on the Courier and make sure they hadn’t decided to hop out a window and ditch him in the middle of nowhere. Benny paid his tab and slung his backpack over his shoulder once again, heading upstairs to the second floor and end of the hall where he’d been directed, quietly opening the door to be greeted by the room being pitch black. He assumed they’d gone to sleep already and navigated his way to the bed, knowing they didn’t sleep on beds-- even when they were ‘home’. He’d noticed they shoved a sleeping roll or some blankets into a corner on the floor and slept curled up, facing as close to the wall as they could get. He didn’t ask, mostly because nobody in this kid’s weird little group had normal sleeping habits. Benny was pretty sure he’d yet to see Boone sleep at all, but that man gave him the heebie-jeebies even without that little fact.

Benny dropped his backpack at the end of the bed, and got halfway through taking his shoes off when he heard it; a quiet sniffling, coming from the right side of the room. He sighed, laying down and staring up at the ceiling in the blackness, before heaving himself up again and reaching for the nightstand, fumbling for the lamp.  
“Kid, are you-” He got the lamp to turn out, momentarily blinding himself. “Are you crying?”

He’d been right that Eaden had camped out in the corner again, covered by their sleeping roll and a few extra shirts that were usually tucked away in their bag.

The mysterious form made of sleeping bag and shirts shifted, and very quietly answered; “... No.”  
Even if Eaden was good at lying, Benny was pretty sure he wouldn’t have believed that.   
He sighed, taking his other shoe off and placing it with the other by his bag, before standing up and slowly crossing the room to crouch in front of the amorphous blob of fabric that was currently the Courier.

“Listen, if this is about earlier-”  
  
“It’s not!”   
  
Benny resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not that they would’ve been able to see it anyways. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said, alright? I crossed the line with some of that-”  
  
Eaden sat up from their pile, shifting the shirts off to peek at him in suspicion.   
“Some?” They asked.

“Alright, alright,” He surrendered, “ALL of what I said. I don’t know where half of it even came from, but I shouldn’ta said it, ‘specially not to a kid. I acted like a fink-”  
  
Eaden raised a brow, deadpan now,   
“Acted?”

“Alright!” Benny said again, sighing as he started realising this was becoming more hassle to fix than to just deal with. “I AM one, in general. Happy now?” He rolled his eyes, keeping himself from grimacing and settling for gritting his teeth. 

“... Why do you care how I feel all of the sudden?” They asked, still eying him like they expected him to insult their mother again; which, he might, if they didn’t just accept his apology already.

“Because I’m having a crisis of conscience.” He deadpanned. “Maybe crying teens just make me feel bad-- how should I know? Just accept the damn apology, kid, you’re killin’ me here.”

Eaden sat up fully now, adjusting so their back was against the wall and they were no longer under the sleeping roll or shirts.  
They brought their legs up to their chest and wrapped their arms around them, leaning their chin onto the tops of their knees and relaxing their expression.   
“Alright,” they decided. “I guess I’ll accept your apology. Even though it sucked.”   
He glared at them for that one, but let it slide-- if that’s what it takes to get them to stop pouting, that’s what it takes.   
“You weren’t… you weren’t entirely wrong though. About my dad and my mom. That’s why I said that I ain’t goin’ home ever; I don’t think my dad would let me back. I’m sure he’s glad to be rid of me.”

Benny didn’t know what to do with that information; really- it wasn’t what he was expecting to hear out of this conversation, and it felt a little too close to what trust felt like.

“...Ah.”

“I started bein’ a courier because of him-- wanted me to pay him back for raising me and my brother. My mom only drank because of my dad.”

Alright, he wanted them to go back to being enemies now. He didn’t want this kid to trust him with that, he didn’t want the kid to trust him at all; he wanted an independent Vegas, not some snotty little kid crying to him about their parents. This was weird and uncomfortable and he was pretty sure he preferred it when Blondie was making jokes at his expense.

“.. Sorry. I didn’t know.” He didn’t say ‘i didn’t mean to hurt you’, because he did mean to at the time, even if he felt kind of bad about it now.  
“Try to get some sleep, kid, we got a long day tomorrow.

It was awkward. He helped them better layer their shirts on their bedroll to stay warm, which was maybe the nicest thing he’d done for them, or anyone, in a while, and went to go to sleep himself. He turned off the lamp, took his armor off, and closed his eyes for a dreamless sleep, when the Courier spoke up again.

“Hey, Benny?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry for callin’ you a gecko.”

He laughed through his nose for a very brief moment, taken off-guard.  
“It’s fine. Night, E.”


	6. I've Come To The Conclusion; We're All Clueless Here

_ They were dreaming; they knew it, everything felt foggy, and the colors were even more muted than the Mojave usually was. They knew they were dreaming, and yet they couldn’t control their racing heart. _

_ “I asked you to feed the bighorners and brahmin before you left, and you can’t even manage that,”  _ _   
_ _ Eaden was... Somewhere- a house, clearly, but with missing pieces and little decoration. Things their brain just couldn’t fill in, --and a man was yelling at them. A very tall man. Their father, they remembered vaguely. Whatever weird perspective they had going on made him seem eight feet tall, or maybe the yelling just made Eaden feel tiny. _

_ “I- I was going to, but I just forget and I really have to get going now.. but I can-”  _ _   
_ _ Was that their voice? They sounded so young, _

_ “But nothing!” The man stepped towards them, jerking his arm up in a motion meant to scare them-- it worked, as the Courier could feel their body flinch automatically. “You’re as useless as your brother was!” _ _   
_ _ The man swayed, and it dawned upon Eaden that perhaps this was a memory, and not just a dream. They didn’t have many solid memories of their childhood; Doc Mitchell had said it was a result of trauma- but he’d thought it was trauma from being shot, and not from growing up. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “He wasn’t useless!” Their voice rose, “Don’t call him that!”  _

_ It happened in a flash; their father’s hand was by his side, and then it was in the air. It didn’t hurt, but Eaden’s eyes started to water anyway as they brought their hand to lightly brush the side of their face that their father’s hand had connected with. _

_ “I hate you!” They yelled at him, though it turned into more of a cry than they intended, broken by their sniffles. _ _   
_ _ “I wish I would just disappear!” _

_ Eaden turned and fled, hugging their couriering bag close to their chest as they tried to blink away tears. They slammed the front door open, pushing out into the dry Mojave air. _ _   
_ _ The second they stepped out, the scene shifted; no longer was day starting to break, no longer were they carrying a satchel. _ _   
_ _ Instead, it was clearly night, stars visible from where they were now kneeling, and their hands were bound at the wrists. _

_ It was too dark to see much, but Eaden recognised the scene anyway-- the glow of a man’s cigarette, a glimpse of the crazed look on one of the accompanying Khan’s faces. It was all still so familiar. _

_ They didn’t hear any of the speech Benny had given them, nor the sound of the gun-- it all flashed too quickly to follow, and then they were drowning. _ _   
_ _ There was blood in their eyes, blood in their nose, blood in their lungs. The taste of gunpowder and dirt sat heavy on their tongue,  _

and then they were screaming.

  
  


“Hey-- hey! Kid!”   
There was a large hand on their shoulder, and someone to their right.   
Boone had shaken them awake, and though it must have been some ungodly hour of the night, his voice held no irritation; if anything, it was softer than usual, less of his usual gruffness.   
“You were... having a nightmare. Figured it was better to wake you.”   
  
The man of little words sat just barely on the edge of their bed, looking much like he’d just been woken up, himself.

  
“I- did I wake you up?” Eaden brought their knees up to their chest, wrapping their arms around them and pressing their face against their knees. “I’ll be quiet, now, you can go back to bed. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, sitting in the darkness, in silence. Eaden’s fear of the dark just barely held at bay by the sniper’s presence.   
And then the stillness was broken by Boone ever-so-slightly shifted towards the Courier.   
“... D’you wanna talk about it?”

  
Eaden looked up from their knees, squinting at him.   
He was wearing a slightly tattered shirt and was without his usual sunglasses, which disproved Eaden and Arcade’s bet that he slept with them on, though it was too dark in the room for them to see much of his eyes anyway.   
They shrugged weakly, looking away.   
“.. I dreamed of dying. Breathing in dirt and not being strong enough to claw my way out.”   
The Courier picked at a loose thread in their shorts, loosening the seam and bringing the already-worn clothing closer to its end.   
“And I guess I dreamed about my dad. The last time he hit me. I don’t really remember home, anymore, but I guess I remember him. Doc Mitchell said I might not remember much, y’know, because…” Eaden lightly tapped their head, right next to the bright scar still near their temple, “but I remember… I remember my mom crying, and trying to get my brother to wake up. I remember my dad being angry. But I don’t remember my brother’s name, or where I lived. What my mom looked like.” 

The more they talked about their dream, the more came spilling out. Soon it wasn’t just the one nightmare, but all of them- the time they’d dreamt that Arcade had died, the time they’d dreamt Benny had tried to kill them again..   
It was clearly stuff that had been bottled up for a long time, Boone didn’t even have to say anything in acknowledgement to keep them talking.   
Their dream-talk turned into a stream of consciousness, and soon Boone was taking a mental note to ask Arcade on how to help the kid with anxiety.   
“--you ever have nightmares?”

The question didn’t register at first, though Boone’s usual quiet air saved him the embarrassment of explaining that he wasn’t listening- it just seemed normal to not get a response from him at first, he always thought about how to say what he wanted.   
  
“... Of course. Almost every night.”

Eaden didn’t ask what about- they knew at least one thing he might’ve dreamed about, but they did stare at him in embarrassed curiosity.

“So… how do you deal with them? Do you just… get used to them, as an adult?”   
It was almost child-like, how they stared at him, hoping for an answer. It was hard to believe he was only about a decade older than them. He wondered if he’d ever had that kid with Carla, would he have been better at consoling Eaden?   
Probably not, he decided.

“I just… focus on the now. Drink some water. Pet Rex. Think of what is in the room with me at the moment; focus on Arcade’s snoring or your shifting.”   
There were things he didn’t even realise he did until he said them; petting Rex gave him a grounding texture, something real and there. When Rex wasn’t around, he could always hear Arcade, even in the Lucky 38 in different rooms. He didn’t always snore, but he was always loud when he did. Eaden thrashed at night when they set up camp; he could always listen to that when he was freaking out.   
“... Talking probably helps.” He said it like it pained him, seeing as everyone knew that Boone wasn’t a talker, but nobody else needed to pick up his anti-social habits, either.

Eaden nodded slowly, trying to think of what they could hear from their room; Rex’s breathing was quiet but audible at the foot of their bed, there were people outside the ‘38 at any given time that Eaden could listen for-- the weight of their blankets was a comfort on its own, though they knew they could try petting Rex for comfort, too.

They sat for a moment, once again just sitting quietly in the dark, but the fear Eaden once felt had ebbed away during their talk, now replaced with overwhelming exhaustion; whether from the taxing conversation or the late time was debatable, but they were content enough to try going back to sleep.   
“Hey, Boone?” They asked after a long moment.

The sniper grunted in response, his eyes closed.

“Thank you.”

  
He cracked an eye open to look at them, the closest thing to a smile that Eaden had ever seen briefly crossed his face, before nodding at them seriously.   
“‘s not a problem, kid. Get some sleep.”   
Making that his cue to leave, Boone stood to leave, turning briefly to check on them again as he reached the doorframe.   
Eaden laid back down, pulling the covers up and tucking themselves in tight, flashing the sniper a tired grin to assure that they would be alright.   
Boone closed the door softly, before taking his own advice and heading back to his own room, just across the hall.


End file.
